


Carpe Noctem

by Seraphina_Scribes



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphina_Scribes/pseuds/Seraphina_Scribes
Summary: "You were borne of chaos, woman. I am already inside you. I flow through your veins. Through the deepest cracks of every crevice housed within your flesh. Through your very heart.” – Cronus, to Nyx. Based on the Quietus!Universe. A Gift to Aen Mikoto Uchiha.
Relationships: Uchiha Madara & Uchiha Mikoto
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Carpe Noctem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aen_Silver_Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aen_Silver_Fire/gifts).



**Carpe Noctem**

_"You were borne of chaos, woman. I am already inside you. I flow through your veins. Through the deepest cracks of every crevice housed within your flesh. Through your very heart.” –_ Cronus, to Nyx

* * *

Nyx leans her head back against the cool edge of her bathtub, and releases a contented sigh into the air. Around her, her handmaidens bustle dutifully about, preparing fresh hot water and scented crushed flowers to add to the bath. A gentle breeze ripples through the black-marble-constructed bathing room from the magnificent palace gardens outside, passing through the multitude of open balcony doors. The illusion of stars and moonlight that she has breathed to life glimmer in the night sky beyond.

These are her private chambers. Not even her husband enters here, for it is a place for women, where Nyx can take leisure with those in her court. Any conversations here, remain concealed. Any secrets, unspoken.

She hums a song, one she used to sing to her beloved sons when they were but infants. A tune about the beauty of the night and shadows – elements that course through their very veins. Her thoughts turn to her cherished offspring. She has not failed to notice Cronus’s increasing and worrying interest in her eldest and his affairs. How he has started to demand more of Thanatos, spreading her most adored pride and joy even thinner over what were already intensely demanding duties.

She swallows, the tranquillity of her thoughts dampening considerably. She hopes that when she next sees him, she can perhaps persuade Cronus to relieve Thanatos of any _further_ burdens. There are plenty in the Uchiha clan, she reasons, who can surely assist him instead.

The Patriarch is notorious for being fierce and formidable in his ideals and decisions. Nyx knows he does not suffer anyone to question him, to defy his absolute authority. But time has taught her many wiles and tricks. She has it in her, to be _extremely_ persuasive.

She just needs to catch him at the _opportune_ moment. When his mood is favourable.

As if summoned by her thoughts, she feels cool fingertips swirl lazily above her right shoulder. The touch draws Nyx out of her musings, and her eyes immediately flutter open. She knows, immediately, who it is. Can sense his smothering, dark, volatile aura. She tenses, as she feels him trace the symbol for _chaos_ upon her damp flesh, and swallows, her heart immediately quickening, even as the familiar knot of guilt wedges itself within her belly.

She watches, as her ladies in waiting curtsy respectfully, and with lowered heads, hastily depart the room and her presence. Leaving her completely alone with the one who stands behind her, looking down over her naked body, concealed only by the steaming water and scattered, floating flower petals.

It is a sight the servants have seen many times before. Scandalous. Forbidden. And yet they do not ever dare to utter a single word to her husband, or her sons of it.

It is the Underworld’s deepest, _darkest_ secret. The affair she shares with the very Titan who breathed life into their midnight world.

He speaks to her then, his voice deep, rich and forged of pure power and seduction, as his fingers roam along the slender, milky arm she has rested upon the ledge of the tub, before drawing back up to her shoulder. She then feels his palm slide to the nape of her neck.

“Turn around.”

It is a simple instruction. A command of authority that expects absolute obedience. Nyx swallows, warring internally with her conscience – before firmly reminding herself _why_ she permits this. The water gently sloshes as she twists, sliding onto her knees at the front of the tub. Her arms wrap instinctively over her breasts – a thoughtlessly coy gesture for a woman he has seen naked more times than he cares to count. Black eyes lift to meet intense onyx – and a shiver of anticipation makes its way down her spine.  
  
His presence is electrifying. This is the very deity who she knows has watched her for aeons. Who could not formally claim her in wedlock, because her union with Erebus had been fated to produce Death and Shadows, crucial weapons in Cronus’s arsenal – but neither had Cronus ever had any intentions of letting her slip entirely from his grasp.

Cronus stands before her, his sculpted, strongly muscled upper torso bare. Loose black pants hang low on his slim hips. His hair is an untameable mane of black, falling gloriously around his sharp, aristocratic, handsome features.

He is a vision equal parts intimidating, arresting and absolutely _predatory_.

“My Lord,” she greets him demurely, eyelashes lowering in submission. “I bid you a good eve.” 

Calloused fingertips grip her chin in a firm hold as he tilts her head back, forcing her eyes back up to his.

“I have no need for pleasantries,” he states dismissively, and reaches out with his other hand to remove the pins binding her long, midnight hair atop her head. Nyx feels the silky tresses tumble loose, cascading down her shoulders. He pushes the strands away from her face with near-deceptive gentleness, before fisting his fingers through the dark locks, as he orders curtly, “Lower your arms and put that pretty mouth to _better_ use.”

She lowers her eyes meekly in understanding. He is tall, and his crotch is perfectly aligned with the edge of the raised tub. The fingers holding her chin relinquish their hold, as he lowers his hand beneath his pants, and draws out his cock.

Nyx licks her plump lips, her throat suddenly dry as the instrument of pleasure springs out. He is already all impressive length and girth, and has clearly visited her with only _one_ thing in mind. She does her duty without question, and bends her head, her warm tongue swirling in an unhurried circle along his engorged tip. She hears his quiet hiss of breath when she proceeds to kiss along his shaft, and lifts a hand to cup his balls, kneading them in precisely the way experience has taught her he likes. Her tongue traces over the swollen veins of his member, before a tug at her head wordlessly informs her that he is growing impatient with her teasing.

Her eyes lift to his, to find he is watching her intently as he presses the head of his cock against her lips. She parts her rosy mouth, and he pushes into her hot oral cavern, filling her with his thickness. The fingers tighten in her hair, as he begins to thrust slowly into her mouth. Her lips suction down around him, providing a tighter vacuum to better pleasure him.

“Such a pretty mouth…” he murmurs, and pulls harder on her head until Nyx near-chokes on his impossible length, feeling his tip hit the back of her throat. He holds her head there, pushing forward for a few seconds – before drawing back. No sooner does she inhale sharply for breath, he drives forward again. With a low growl, he continues to face-fuck her, faster and harder. She sucks on him obediently, knowing better than to lift a hand to his shaft – until she feels salty warmth explode into the back of her throat. His cum drips slowly from the corner of her mouth as he draws back, painting himself upon her lips.

But she knows he is not done. This is only the beginning.

“Rinse your mouth,” he utters. “And rise.”

Nyx uses the water to clean the milky stains upon her face. Then she grips the edge of the tub, and lifts herself carefully out the water at his command. His dark eyes trail over her body, watching as rivulets of water trail over her bare skin. She feels heat ignite within her everywhere he looks. Then Cronus reaches out a hand, offering it to her. It is an almost _gallant_ gesture, so at war with his usual, anarchic, diabolical nature, that Nyx finds herself growing breathless underneath the terrible weight of that heavy stare. She slips her hand into his regardless, and accepts his wordless assistance in helping her step out of the bathtub.

As soon as both feet hit the marble floor, he tugs her to him, crushing her wet body possessively against the heat of his torso. A second later, he has transported them to his private, resplendent chambers. The room is aglow with firelight and she knows none dare enter here.  
  
He discards his pants with the blasé arrogance of one accustomed to being pleasured at will and lowers himself to sit on the edge of the bed, scattered with rich crimson sheets and pillows. Still holding her small hand in his large one, he reels her to him, eyes smouldering as they hold hers captive with the frightening severity of his gaze.

Placing his hands on her hips, he then leans forward, tongue tracing over the trails of water on her flesh, swirling around a rosy nipple as he catches it between his teeth. Nyx inhales sharply as forbidden pleasure zig-zags through her when one hand slips between her legs, fingers parting the folds of her inner lips. A thumb presses against her clitoris and rubs, channelling liquid fire into her lower belly, as his lips continue to suck and nibble against her tingling skin. Branding her. Marking her. Wounds that she will always heal, before her husband can ever see.

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Cronus is a fiery, passionate, ruthless lover. She knows that he is indulging her, allowing her a few brief moments of pleasure. But they are all too brief. All too soon, his fingers fall away, as he slips his hands behind her, grips her buttocks firmly, and coldly commands, “Ride me, woman.”

Nyx’s heart quickens. She obediently steps forward, and straddles him. Her hands move to his broad, strong shoulders, and she intends to lower herself slowly onto his thickness. A gasp escapes her throat when he brutally yanks down on her hips, impaling her without warning on his throbbing, heated shaft.

Not giving her a second to adjust, his lips ghost against her left ear, as he murmurs, “Ride me as though your very _life_ depends on it.”

A hand then lifts to grip her throat in a tight hold. Nyx begins to lift and drop herself onto his cock, starting with a slow, steady rhythm. She gyrates her hips in circular motions, stroking him deeply within her slick walls. He roughly tugs her closer by the neck, and runs his hot, rough tongue along the side of her face. She releases a breathy moan, unable to contain the spikes in pleasure that are now shocking through her body. But his lips silence hers from exhaling anything else when they catch her in a bruising, crushing kiss.

Her heart flutters. His kisses have always had the ability to make her head spin, to send her thoughts scattering and reeling from their staggering, breath-taking intensity. Her nails dig into his shoulders, hard enough to leave crescent marks. The need to chase release for the terrible ache that has started to throb deeply within her takes over, and her dips grow faster, harder, more urgent. Cronus sinks his teeth into her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and her eyes fly open to meet swirling crimson kaleidoscopes.

She catches her breath at their beauty, their lethal deadliness, as they stare at one another in the dimness. These very eyes have seen more than she ever has in her eons of existence. Eyes that are cruel. Eyes that are merciless. Eyes that destroy. She sees the chaos within him, the darkness that laces the very fibres of his being. A darkness she can only hope their passionate trysts help to divert and contain – for left unchecked, he is a destructive force of nature, and there is no telling to where – _or whom_ – his malevolent attentions might turn.

“Ride me,” his eyes gleam maliciously. “As though the lives of your _sons_ depend on it.”

She gasps fearfully at that. Why would he mention her boys? Spurned to act in urgency, seeking to pleasure and divert him, she quickens in her movements, riding harder and harder, faster and faster, until she near forgets herself, her body giving into instinct. Her head falls back, and her moans spill out into the air between them.

“Ah…” she exhales needily.

He watches her for a moment, with wide, dangerous eyes – and then the air is snatched from her lungs entirely, when he abruptly hauls her forward, and flips their positions, slamming her down onto the mattress below, his fingers clamped tight around her throat. She claws at his arm in alarm. He is rough, she knows – but cutting off her breathing is something he only does whenever he is greatly displeased – or angered.

A trickle of fear passes through her. She hopes he is not angered.

“Do you forget _your place?_ ” he demands, eyes narrowing into vicious slits as he pushes his face to within inches from hers, pinning her down with the crushing weight of his powerful body. “You do not moan unless it is to say _my name_.”

“Forgive me… My Lord,” she gasps, trembling from the menacing, intimidating aura that pulses from his body.

“You are nothing,” he hisses into her ear, “but a _doll_ in my hand, one I can crush between my fingers without a thought.”

“M-my Lord,” she manages, fighting to remain calm. She has been in this situation before. She slides her fingers soothingly along the hard muscles of his left forearm – but the grip around her neck only tightens.

“Do you _think_ ,” he whispers harshly, forehead pressed to the side of her turned head, “that you can _contain_ my chaos? Do you believe…” he reaches down to push her legs wider apart, and then she feels the head of his thick cock press against her opening, before he pushes slowly inside her. “That you can _divert_ it?”

She gulps as he slides back inside her. Her heart pounds agitatedly against her ribcage. Has he seen through her entirely? Has he known all along? She cannot quite hold onto her thoughts. The way his girth fills her so absolutely drives her near delirious with want.

“No, sweet Nyx,” Cronus murmurs, and she feels a wicked smile curve against the shell of her ear. “You cannot stop it. You cannot contain it. Your body is merely an outlet for it. One that I own. _Mine._ _Say it_.”

She gulps, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to thrust slowly inside her, his length throbbing against her clenching walls. Her inner core burns with need, coiling with unbearable tension, and shame flushes through her, as she thinks, briefly, of her beloved husband. The honourable man she is bound to in wedlock, who has no idea that another takes her into his bed.

Even if he _did_ know, he would not dare to defy Cronus. None did. Any who were foolish enough, met the most horrible of demises. Nyx had seen it happen before her very eyes.

“You own me… My Lord,” she gasps, and he rewards her with a sudden, violent thrust. She has to bite into her tongue to keep herself from crying out. She has already forgotten the rules of their cat and mouse game once. She cannot afford to do so again.

“To whom do you belong?” he rumbles deeply into her ear, still gripping her throat in an asphyxiating hold. She feels his chest, crushing down against hers, and feels trapped in the cage of his strong arms.

There is no escape. Nowhere to flee. He takes her when he wants. How he wants. And her body, to her shame, had come to crave it. The danger. The illicit passion.

He tells her that her heart is his. That her body and soul, are his by right. But his own heart – his own soul – those are unobtainable. Nyx wonders if he possesses them at all. After all, she knew the fate of the woman he had once called _wife_ before.

“Y-yours, My Lord.”

“Yes…” he growls, and then his hand grabs her face, and turns it toward his. His Sharingan sears through her, breath-taking in intensity. “ _Mine._ You were borne of chaos, woman. I…” he thrusts again, “am already _inside_ you. I flow through your veins. Through the deepest cracks of every crevice housed within your flesh. Through your very heart.” A hand is splayed over her left breast, and she feels a quiver of pain within her chest as shadows squeeze around the organ.

“Ughnn…” she whispers weakly. His lips slam down against hers, burning, branding, ruthless. She can do nothing but part her lips, allowing his pillaging, cruel tongue to invade her oral cavern. The kiss deepens, becoming wild, passionate as Cronus thrusts harder, pounding into her so savagely, she has to conceal her needy moans against his lips.

Finally he releases her throat, and pins her wrists over her head. He bites at her neck, sinking his teeth into her scorching flesh to mark her, and proceeds to fuck her even more brutally. She gasps, her breaths escaping her lips in uneven, sporadic bursts. She lifts her slender legs, locks her ankles over his buttocks, and clenches, drawing his body down more firmly against hers. He is breathing raggedly now, a wild light in his eyes as he gazes down upon her.

Pure, unadulterated chaos. She could feel it seeping into her blood. Her bones. Her very soul. Just as he has said.

“Scream for me,” he finally permits, as she reaches the heights of ecstasy, near sobbing with the need for release. “Scream _my name_ , Nyx.”

He releases her hands, and they fly immediately to his back, nails dragging down his flesh as she cries out, anchoring herself to him, toes curling with pleasure, “Ah! Cronus! Ah, ah, _ahhh!_ ”

He releases a savage growl, and his lips slam possessively over hers, breaking her off immediately, as he fucks her brutally to the pinnacle of sheer euphoria in the dimness. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
  


**Author’s Note**   
_Coughs. Dedicated to Mikoto Uchiha Aen from the Discord group. You’re welcome._


End file.
